


Keep me close

by Ramadiii



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Night Terrors, Romance, Romantic Friendship, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-26 23:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18187040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramadiii/pseuds/Ramadiii
Summary: Working at a rehabilitation clinic is your life, but when an old friend appears things should get messy but they don't.





	Keep me close

**“** Good morning, Jerry.”  
The man at the front desk greets you with a tired smile, you’re a walking reminder that his shift’s nearly over.  
You walk into the staff dressing room, change into your scrubs and dump your bag and coat into your designated locker.  
Work at the Peach River Rehabilitation Clinic is the kind that never stops, patients arrive at all hours of the day, some court ordered, others are there voluntarily, but in the end the work never changes.  
You like it.  
The kind of place where basically anything can happen but you never know when the shit’s going to hit the fan.

* * *

“Klaus?”  
The man on the bed looks up at your breathless inquiry, bloodshot eyes regarding you closely before the proverbial penny seemingly drops.  
“Bestie!” He grins, arms outstretched as if to hug you but doesn’t move off the bed so you just smile kindly at him, disregarding whatever questions you have about the ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ tattoos on his hands. “What are you doing here?”   
“I work here.” You say, opening his chart as you approach him. “What about you?”  
“Oh, you know,” He shrugs, that all too familiar goofball-look on his face. “One minute I’m having these delicious finger sandwiches in an alleyway and next thing I know some judge is taking out all his frustrations from his dead marriage out on me and sentences me to a stint in rehab. You know, the usual stuff.”  
You can’t help but shake your head with a laugh, anticipating the things coming out of Klaus’ mouth has always been an impossible feat.  
“I hope the sandwiches were worth it.” You quip as you begin working, moving around to get his vitals.  
“ _Magnifique_!” He grins and dangles his legs off the bed. He looks like a child, you marvel as you measure his blood pressure, but you’re not being honest with yourself. He doesn’t look like a child, he looks like the rambunctious teen you used to sneak out of the house with at 1 am, passing joints out on the fire escape, lifting tequila bottles from the stores, running from the cops. Apart from his height he hasn’t changed much.

High blood pressure.  
Increased body temperature.  
Dehydration.  
Malnourishment.  
Increased heart rate.  
Apart from these things he hasn’t changed much.

“So how’s dear old mom and dad?” He asks when you’ve finished your assessment and begun putting the instruments away.  
“Don’t know.” You say, not looking up at him. “Haven’t talked to them in a while.”  
“Really?” Klaus says, sounding less than shocked. “The three of you used to be thick as thieves, yeah? What happened?”  
You sigh, there’s an ache traveling up your temples and you want to squash it while you still can.  
“Dad cheated, mom started drinking, I moved out, end of story.”  
“Doesn’t sound like the whole story.” Klaus looks up at you with those green puppy dog eyes, he is begging for a juicy story and you’re not going to give it to him.  
“It is for today.” You settle on, reluctant to dismiss him completely. “You’re showing signs of what could be the beginning of kidney failure so we’re going to have to be really aware of that going forward. Your body temperature is a little higher than normal and you seem to be suffering from dehydration so that’s going to be our first order of business.”  
Klaus looks at you like you’ve just recited Hamlet backwards.  
“Any questions?”  
“Yeah, what the hell happened to you? You used to be fun.”  
Another sigh, you’d practically giftwrapped that one for him.  
“I’m still pretty fun,” You wink at him and he lights up like a Christmas tree. “I just happen to be working.”

* * *

“I’m starting to think you’ve lost your mind.” Your boss looks at you like you’ve gotten into a patient’s stash.   
“This is not a normal patient, Dana. We know the cause behind his drug use, we’re already five steps ahead of the program.”   
“I’m well aware of who Mr. Hargreeves is.” Dana fixes her steely gaze on you. “Don’t think you are the only one with an interest in these patients’ rehabilitation.”   
“So you agree it’s an unusual case, right? So why not consider an unusual approach to treatment?”   
“Because it’s highly unethical to perform a non-peer reviewed treatment plan on a patient, not to mention it would be in violation of the terms of his sentence.”   
“Not necessarily, as long as I’m with him anywhere he stays can basically be called an outpatient facility and if nothing else a sober living home. He can still get drug tested when he needs to, his probation officer will still have full access to him and I can get sure he gets to his court appearances on time.”   
Dana leans back in her chair, gaze towards the skies as if asking the gods to help her.   
“You have nothing to base this treatment on, not to mention you and the clinic would be held responsible if anything goes wrong, and if you’ve read Mr. Hargreeves’ file you know that whatever he’s involved in tend to go wrong.”   
You bristle at her words, he might be a bit of a fuck-up but that doesn’t mean it’s okay to just say it.   
“Actually, the rules of court clearly state that, and I quote, individual counseling should be made available in special circumstances if an assessment based on acceptable professional standards indicates that individual counseling is the only appropriate form of treatment.”   
You look at Dana and you can’t help your shit eating grin.   
“I don’t know about you, but I’d say being able to see and communicate with the dead can be nothing but a special circumstance.”   
“You’ve got to check with the judge.” Dana says after a moment of silence.   
“I’ll call him now.” You hold up your phone. “All you have to do is say yes.”

* * *

“How did you manage this again?” Klaus asks as you unlock the door to your home.  
“I’m resourceful, remember? Now come on in.”  
Klaus looks around the modest townhouse before taking his boots off, making an effort by placing them on the shoe rack.  
“You buy or rent?” He asks.  
“Rent.” You say, locking the door behind you. “Buying is a big commitment.”  
“And keeping me isn’t?” He looks at you like an adorable idiot.  
“First of all, I’m not ‘keeping’ you, you’re not a pet. Second, if we’re going to make any progress getting a handle on your powers I thought it’d be best to be somewhere private.”  
Klaus stares blankly at you.  
“What do you mean ‘getting a handle on my powers’? Dad already tried that, remember?”  
“Your dad was a sadist and a moron.” You say, walking up the stair to the kitchen with your guest trailing behind you. “He only exposed you to your powers, he never did anything to help you control them.”  
“Not that I’m arguing your point,” Klaus jumps up on the counter, watching as you ready some coffee. “But what do you think you can do that he couldn’t?”  
“I’ve got a friend, I met her in college, whose more or less psychic.”  
“More or less?”  
“She can see spirits, sense energies, that kind of thing.” You open a cupboard to get you some mugs. “It’s all very hush hush though, I think I might be the only person besides her family who knows about it. Anyway, it started for her when she was a teenager and her aunt taught her how to control it.”  
Klaus accepts the now filled coffee mug in silence. You can’t help but feel for him, for so long he’s thought there was nothing anyone could do about his horrifying abilities when in reality there were people just like him living perfectly normal lives and he never knew about it.  
“How does she do it?”  
“She describes it as putting up walls.” You say, taking a sip from your own mug. “She can feel when there’s spirits around but it’s like they’re knocking on a door and she chooses whether or not to answer it. She can explain it better tomorrow, so until then I guess we’ll just have to find some way to spend the time.”  
Klaus drains the last of his coffee and looks at you.  
“You got any movies?”

* * *

“I’ve made up the couch for you.” You say as you hand him a new toothbrush, watching him shake the water from the shower out of his hair. “I got you an extra blanket in case you get cold and feel free to keep a light on if you need.”  
“Great, thanks.” He says, his eyes wandering to where your oversized nightshirt ends at the middle of your thighs. “And not just for this.” His eyes snap up to your face again. “I mean for everything. I might not always seem it but I’m grateful.”  
Your words seem to fail you as you stammer out something that sounds like “you’re welcome” before escaping to your bedroom. You hear Klaus moving around downstairs as you get into bed, your face burns and you wonder since when he could look at you like that. You force your brain to shut down, ignoring the way your heart beats wildly out of time as you try to wipe the sight of a pair of beautifully tortured green eyes from your mind.

You glance sleepily at the clock, 2 am.  
At first you can’t tell why you’ve woken up, thinking maybe something had happened outside on the street, but then you hear it.  
The faint cries coming from downstairs.  
The urgency of the situation hits you and you quickly make your way out of the bed, down the stairs and into the livingroom where Klaus lays.  
He’s twisted up in the blankets, a layer of sweat covering his body as he alternates between sobbing and crying in his sleep.  
He shakes as you move over to him. His eyes are squeezed shut and his breathing is labored as he sucks in air through his clenched teeth.  
“Klaus?” You call, hoping it will be enough to wake him. It’s not.

He whimpers, twisting himself further into the blankets.  
“Klaus, you need to wake up.” You reach out to touch him but it’s not enough to fully bring him out of the nightmare, his skin is blistering hot and your concern for him grows tenfold.  
“Klaus!” You raise your voice as you shake him, finally seeing him open his eyes. They’re wide in terror and shining with tears but they are open.  
“It’s okay, you’re okay.” You whisper as you embrace him, feeling his hot flesh against your own. You know it’s a lie, that just because he’s escaped sleep doesn’t mean the ghosts will leave him alone.  
He shakes in your arms, his sobs turning into wailing and he creeps so close that you for a fleeting moment wonder if he is about to be absorbed into your body. He clings to you, like a babe to his mother, and you dare yourself to run your fingers through his damp hair, rewarded with a cat like purr as he leans into the touch.  
“Did I wake you?” He asks, voice in time with his body.  
“Nah.” You say, stroking his hair as he leans his head against your shoulder. “I’m always up at this time.”  
“Liar.” He laughs shakily, his body is cooling down quick and you’re worried he’ll get too cold. You reach behind him, grabbing one of the blankets to dry him off.  
“You want something to drink?”  
“Whiskey, please.” He shoots you a smile that says he’s well aware he’s pushing you.  
“Water it is.” You glance over your shoulder as you fill a glass for him, he looks so broken like this.

“Why don’t you just spend the night with me?” You ask once he’s downed all the water, the glass sitting motionless on the coffee table. He gives you a look you quite can’t discern, and you act on the impulse to take hold of his hand.   
“It used to help, remember?”   
As teens you’d done basically everything together, and more often than not Klaus would stay over at your place rather than go home to that cold and frigid mansion. Of course, your parents had never really approved but you’d always been protective of the boy and never cared much for your parents’ approval so your home became his home.   
Until your parents’ had had enough of his bad influence and moved you three states away.   
“Come on.” You squeeze his hand and move him from the couch and up the stairs.   
He freezes at the sight of your bed but you coax him through the doorway and into it.   
“Is this okay?” You ask laying down behind him, more or less spooning him under the covers.   
“Yeah.” He replies, ever so softly moving your arm so it wraps around him, as if he expects you to snap the limb back if he moves too quickly.   
“Try to get some sleep.” You whisper, hoping he can’t feel your heart going crazy inside your chest at the proximity. “Tomorrow’s another day.”

Klaus lies awake for a bit after you’ve fallen asleep, praying to a god he doesn’t believe in that you can’t hear the furious beating of his heart, or feel the blush crawling down his chest at the feeling of your body against his. 

**Author's Note:**

> Request from Tumblr's pertedespoir. I really needed to write some Robert Sheehan! <3


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